


Sometimes they share, sometimes they don’t

by heatgeneratingtechniques



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: 5 Times, Camping, Children, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memories, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatgeneratingtechniques/pseuds/heatgeneratingtechniques
Summary: Camping trips always fill Link with nostalgia.For Tropetastic Tuesday 5: forced bed-sharing with other people around.





	

They’re out camping tonight. Rhett wanted to bring their families out to visit the place where he’d gone camping alone the previous Easter. Their wives and Lily declined, choosing to have their own ladies’ night out closer to home, so it’s just Rhett and Link and the boys.

It’s late, the excitement of the day’s drive and hike now replaced with a peaceful exhaustion. Rhett, Locke, and Lincoln are quiet in their tent. Link looks over at Shepherd and Lando, glad to see them already drifting off, before he rests his head on his pillow.

Camping trips always fill him with nostalgia.

~

**October 1985.** Second grade. He's at a sleepover at Rhett’s house for his eighth birthday. The other kids are all asleep, sprawled all over the floor of Rhett’s living room. Link and Ben are curled up on opposite ends of the long sofa, both in their sleeping bags. Link didn’t want to sleep on the floor because he’d read an encyclopedia entry on dust mites earlier that week and was worried about them crawling in his hair (plus, he’s uneasy at the thought of not sleeping in his own bed), so he was relieved when he managed to claim spot on the couch.

Rhett was somewhere on the floor, probably.

Link wakes up sometime later to someone shaking his shoulder.

“I can’t sleep on the floor,” Rhett whispers in the dark. “It’s too hard. Move over.”

So Link scoots over and Rhett squeezes himself onto the couch beside him. He’s a lot bigger than Link, so it’s a tight fit. Link doesn’t care too much. He likes having his best friend so close. Rhett asks him why he’s smiling.

“Your breath smells like farts,” Link giggles, loud enough that Ben stirs, raising his tousled head from the other end of the couch. He blinks sleepily at Link, who’s lying with his head almost in the crook of Rhett’s arm, before dropping back onto his pillow.

“Your breath smells like poop,” Rhett whispers, grinning. “Did you eat the cake backwards?”

Link’s laughter is so loud and sudden that it wakes everyone up.

~

**April 1991.** Seventh grade. He’s camping at Raven Rock with the McLaughlin men. Cole asks him where his sleeping bag is, and Link realizes with a jolt that he left it at home. Mr. McLaughlin only laughs.

“Don’t worry, Linkster,” he says, clapping a firm hand to Link’s shoulder. “We got you covered.”

He’d brought an extra sleeping bag, just in case. Link is relieved that he won’t have to sleep on the ground.

That night, he and Rhett stay up late talking by the fire, so late that even Mr. McLaughlin and Cole are already asleep by the time they creep into the tent. Link shimmies into his borrowed sleeping bag before shimmying out again almost immediately.

“It smells real bad, like mothballs,” he whispers to Rhett. “Can I sleep with you?”

Rhett looks a little scared. He glances at his father’s sleeping form.

“Come on, it’s cold,” Link says, shivering. “Mom says I’m skinny. I can fit!”

He’s already pulling at the zipper of the sleeping bag, so Rhett reluctantly moves to let him in. His sleeping bag is a special one, much roomier than Link’s to accommodate his astronomical height.

Rhett holds himself very still as Link slides in beside him and zips the bag back up.

“Much better,” Link yawns. He squirms after a moment. “Quit pokin’ me with your finger, man.”

“Ain’t a finger,” Rhett mumbles.

“Hm?” Link opens his eyes, turns his head so they’re face-to-face, noses barely centimeters apart. “What—”

He’s suddenly jostled aside as Rhett violently claws his way out of the sleeping bag, wide-eyed with panic.

“Hey,  _ hey _ !” Link protests in whispered shouts as he gets an elbow in the face. “What the heck’s wrong with you, Rhett?”

“Nothing.” Rhett’s shuffling away from him sideways now, his knees drawn up to his chest. “You can sleep in the bag by yourself.”

“But you’ll be cold—”

“I’ll be fine,” Rhett snaps. “Mothballs don’t bother  _ me. _ ”

The last word sounds like an accusation, but Link can’t grasp of  _ what _ . Rhett climbs into the sleeping bag that Link had vacated just moments before, his face turned towards the wall of the tent. Link watches him for a few moments, but Rhett doesn’t move. Puzzled, Link goes back to sleep

~

**July 1995.** Between their junior and senior years of high school. They’re camping again, this time with friends. Someone brought beer, but Link didn’t like the taste. Rhett brought his guitar along, so they all stay by the fire, laughing and singing and telling stories, until the stars are bright overhead.

That night Link wakes up to Rhett shaking beside him.

“You cold, man?” he asks.

Rhett goes very still. He’s breathing heavily.

“No,” he says, and it’s the softest, most pitiful sound Link has ever heard.

Realization hits him as he sees movement in the sleeping bag near where he guesses Rhett’s crotch to be. “Wait a minute, you jerkin’ off in there?” He can’t help grinning, can’t help reaching for the zipper of his friend’s sleeping bag (just to mess with him, of course). “You need some help?”

The slap Link gets stings worse than he thought it would.

“Leave me the hell alone,” Rhett snaps.

He rolls away and covers his head with his sweatshirt. Link retreats into his own sleeping bag and wishes it wasn’t so hard for him to keep his damn mouth shut.

~

**January 2002.** They’re at a mountain resort with friends from church for a post-holiday weekend of snowboarding. When they get to their rooms, it’s quickly discovered that they are a few beds short. They survey the situation and try to figure out who will sleep where. Gregg suggests that Rhett and Link share a bed.

Link can feel Rhett’s eyes on him, but he refuses to look up.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Link says with a weak chuckle. “I can sleep anywhere. I’ll just get a cot.”

~

**May 2008.** They’re traveling for the Alka-Seltzer Great American Road Trip. It’s a fun sponsorship, but money’s still pretty tight. They book the cheapest hotels they can find.

The first night, Link comes out of the shower to find that Rhett has lined the extra pillows down the middle of the double bed that they’re forced to share.

“You can ask for a cot, man,” he reminds Rhett as he towels his hair dry in front of the mirror.

Rhett snorts. “You think my legs are gonna fit on a tiny cot?  _ You _ ask for the cot.”

“I wanna sleep in a bed, man!”

“Then stop complaining.”

Sighing, Link puts on his pajamas, climbs into bed beside Rhett, who’s watching a documentary on the History Channel. Something about World War II airplane design, apparently.

“Stay on your side,” Rhett says as Link pulls the covers up to his chin. It almost sounds like a question. A plea, even.

“Can’t make no promises,” Link says, opening one eye to grin up at his friend. “But I better not be feelin’ your finger on me when I wake up.”

He means it as a joke, expects Rhett to laugh, but is surprised when Rhett blushes instead.

“Can’t make no promises,” Rhett tells him.

He reaches out to squeeze Link’s shoulder. It’s an unusual gesture for him, especially since they’re already in such close quarters. Link nudges him back, and there’s a moment when their eyes lock — when they’re both grinning — that Link tucks away in the back of his mind and promises himself to remember forever.

~

Now, there’s no reason for them to share a bed. They can afford separate hotel rooms, separate tents. Link isn’t complaining; he likes not having to fight for his share of the covers. But he’d also be lying if he didn’t admit that sometimes on these trips, he wakes up and wishes he wasn’t sleeping alone.

Tonight, he dozes off in the tent, mind still awhirl with memories.

He wakes up a few hours later, shaken from an unpleasant dream. He can’t remember the details, but his heart is racing and a feeling of terror still lingers. Out of habit, he glances at the boys—

—and feels a brief shock, followed by the strangest lump in his throat.

Lando has tucked himself into Shepherd’s sleeping bag. Both boys are sound asleep, their blond heads tilted together. One of Shepherd’s arms is wrapped around Lando’s shoulders.

Link’s vision blurs at the sight. He wipes his eyes dry with a quiet chuckle; this isn’t something worth crying over. He makes a mental note to mention this to Rhett in the morning.

If he knows anything about his best friend, Rhett will probably respond the same way.


End file.
